El Hogar Viejo
by Biblia
Summary: Freed from the binds of their sins as Haibane, Rakka and Reki had their Days of Flight. Now over the Wall, they find themselves together again, living in a new world and seeing if they might find some redemption together after forgiveness. Shoujo-a
1. Chapter 1

The moon hung swollen and a bright, pearly white in the clear, cloudless sky. Stars like a blanket of sparkling luminescence stretched from horizon to horizon, bathing the bare landscape in startling shades from deep, midnight blue shadows and pale, milky white reflections on the sand. A little pinprick of a more somber, smoldering red bobbed, moving slowly down the lonely desert road. A cigarette hung loosely from slack lips, eyes staring peacefully at the serenity in the quiet landscape. A sudden gust of wind whipped across the land, swirling around the body of the girl and eliciting a shiver. She pulled her jacket closer around her body, drawing on her smoking cigarette and filling her lungs with a sear of warm smoke. She blew it out of the corner of her mouth, eyes watching as the trail curled up into the air and vanished. If it weren't for the tell-tale sign of her smoking, eyes would have had a hard time telling she was there. Her hair hung dark and straight around her face and shoulders, blacker than the nighttime shadows. Her face was pale, and she wore dark clothing, a denim jacket over a dull brown t-shirt, though certain shows of lightness in the garment brought up the possibility that it had not always been that shade. Dark, tough jeans clung to rangy, yet still feminine legs, with the pointed toes of a pair of boots emerging from the bottoms.

Despite her uncertainty about such things, she couldn't help but feel that she was made for this world around her, the contrast and harshness a perfect harmony with her own gruff nature and that gentler side she tried not to show so much, at least not around the men of the little town. She took another pull on her cigarette, continuing her walk down the vacant road. It was almost her favorite time of the day, when the pale, wan light of the sun would just barely start creeping into the air. The sky and land would be scraped clean like a canvas, all turning to bleached grays and whites, before the sun poked up over the edge of the world to color it with tongues of flame. Fire would roar across the sky and the land would glow bright, hot yellow as the orb rose up to the sky, soon to more literally scorch the earth and any so foolish to walk unprotected beneath it. But until that happened, she could watch the dramatic death of the night once again.

It was such a blend to this time that she almost missed it. Just on the side of the road, as this magical time began, was a small, pitiful, cream-colored bundle. She didn't take any notice of it when first her eyes passed it, only as the sun began rising father and coloring the earth, the contrast becoming more evident, did she truly recognize what it was she saw. Patches of pale flesh the tone of finely mixed _masa, _a splay of hair that at one glance appeared a deep, lustrous brown, and at another shone with the blaze of burnished copper. It was a young girl, lying on the road. Reki felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, and she ran over as fast as she was able. Thankfully, she found the girl alive, though clad only in a simple cloth dress and sandals that were terribly unsuited for this land, and with no evident sign of how she had arrived. Her skin was soft and untouched by sun, her feet showed no signs of walking, and yet it would have been the news of the month had any vehicles gone by on this road today. Reki cleared her mind of those thoughts. It didn't matter right now, she needed to get her to shelter before the sun rose. She shook the girl's shoulder, but she didn't awaken. Looking closer and touching exposed skin, the girl did feel somewhat hot, and her slumber restless. She was sick, alone, and presumably lost, in the middle of nowhere with a sun rising angrily to roast her where she lay. Without a single moment's hesitation, Reki carefully pulled the unconscious girl onto her back, continuing the trek back to her home.

The girl shifted restlessly. Something deliciously cool and soothing touched on her brow, and a gentle caress on her cheek brought a warmth quite apart from fever to her heart. She opened her eyes. The air around her at first seemed somehow... dirty, but as her vision cleared, she found it was only the effect of sunlight filtering through dingy, yellowed curtains and illuminating a dingy, brown room. Her eyes roamed slowly over the slightly discolored walls, finding soon the one example of beauty in this place. Somebody sat beside her, beside the bed she lay in. An earthenware bowl sat on her lap, and she wrung out a clean white cloth with careful deliberation in the cool water it held. Her face was gracefully composed of straight planes, but was kind, and her skin looked soft. The roughly made pants and shirt she wore seemed at once both out of place, and strangely perfectly suited to adorn her. She turned her dark, angled eyes back to the girl in the bed, and appeared surprised.

"_Buenos dias, señorita," _she spoke in a musical, smooth tongue that the girl didn't understand, though she felt immediately entranced by the gentle voice that spoke it. She opened her mouth to speak, but only made a light croaking sound at first. Shutting her mouth in embarrassment, she wet her tongue and worked her throat, trying again.

"I, I'm sorry. I don't know if I understand you."

A flash of shocked recognition shone in the woman's eyes, "Hold on, you speak this language, Japanese?" Reki couldn't have placed the girl's ethnic origins if she'd been asked, though something in her cheekbones and lips made an Asian origin not unthinkable. Nonetheless, she felt a chill run up her spine at the familiarity of the situation.

"Um, Yes, I guess. Is that unusual?"

"Ah, not really, but there aren't many around her that do."

"What was that you were speaking?"

"Spanish, it's the native language."

The girl stared at the ceiling. This was certainly odd, what was she doing in this place? With a sudden dawning of fear, she came to find that she couldn't recall her origins at all. Where was she from? Why was she here? Who were these people that she found herself among, speaking this unfamiliar language? The woman in the room broke her from these thoughts with but a simple question.

"What's your name?"

"Rakka," the girl answered without hesitation, only thinking later that somehow, she hadn't known even that until she was asked.

"Rakka? 'Falling?' Humm... I guess you must have had the same weird parents as me, to hang you with a name like that," she spoke with a soft smile to show the humor rather than insult to her words, "My name is Reki, meaning 'little stones'. I don't know why. I could understand that kind of name for a little boy, even if he'd hate to have to grow up with it, but me?"

Reki raised an eyebrow, and Rakka laughed, a low, sweet sound.

"So, what brings you to this little slice of the desert?"

"Desert?"

"Yes, the dry, sandy place you were in outside, before I found you this morning. Remember?"

Rakka flushed, straining her mind but finding no recollection, "No... no I don't remember. I don't remember anything."

Raki felt another shiver run up her spine, "Not anything?"

Rakka tried again, searching every corner of her memory, "No, just my name. Well, I think I know how to tie shoes, and how many days are in a week, and other things like that, but... nothing about me," she looked to Reki with stark fear and sadness in her face, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes and hanging there, shining and opalescent. She sat up, then, feeling her legs slide under a cool sheet and laying her arms down on top of a scratchy, rough-stitched blanket. Reki reached over and laid a hand over hers, trying to ease the girl's worries,

"Hey now, calm down. It's scary to not know those things, but you're among friends," Through some unbelievable coincidence the sun, in its constant migration across the sky, hit the break in the curtains as Reki said this, illuminating her from behind in a halo of bright light as she smiled reassuringly. Rakka felt a strange surge of recognition, with swirled feelings of bittersweet happiness and hopeless yearning, as though she'd seen this before and it had been somehow a time of joy and great sorrow. Reki, unaware of what had overtaken the girl, grew slightly uncomfortable at the steady, full gaze she was fixed with and stood, blocking the light and breaking the spell weaved over Rakka's senses. The younger girl shook her head, trying to focus on that feeling, feeling something just on the edge of her perception, some important memory that was reluctant to make itself seen.

"_Oi! Despierta muchacha, es la hora para trabajar," _a rough voice called loudly through the door, breaking her last touch with that sense and startling her besides.

"_Sí, sí, estoy despierto ya. Tu ve, cabrón,_" Reki called back, a good deal more harshly than Rakka had heard her speak thus far.

"Wh-what's going on?" Rakka asked fearfully, and Reki smiled.

"Ah, it's _mi_ _casero, _er, landlord, waking me up for work. I, ah, just told him I was already awake and, er, would be down in a moment," Reki fibbed slightly, thinking that it couldn't hurt anything. She always spoke that way with the fellow who owned the place. He thought she was strange and unbecoming for a woman, and she thought he was a grouchy good-for-nothing old crank, but they tolerated one another outside of the occasional tossed insult, and even those weren't meant too harshly. For some reason she felt embarrassed to explain what she'd actually said to this young girl she'd only just met. Speaking of which...

"You better go ahead and get up, too, if you're feeling better. We need to let him know that he's going to have another tenant for a bit."

"Oh no, I couldn't just impose like that--"

"Because you have somewhere else to go?" Reki interjected bluntly. Rakka fell silent, and Reki waited for her to get up out of bed.

"Your shoes are there on the floor, might as well put them on. We'll see about getting you some more suitable clothes today, but what you're wearing will work well enough for now. At least it's cute, maybe it'll soften up the crotchety fellow," Rakka smiled shyly at Reki's compliment and accompanying smile. The door was opened and they came out into a thin hallway lined with six doors, the one they exited the middle one on the right, looking in from a bigger room to their immediate left.

Reki led her in there, where they found a small room with a little couch and a fuzzy television that wasn't actually showing anything at the moment, but was still on, and a low coffee table scattered with yellowed magazines and old newspapers. The walls were yellowed with age, and the maroon carpet was--surprisingly, given the clutter--clean, if threadbare. This little room had a set of double doors to one side, and one wall opened to a decently sized little kitchen, which was where Reki led her next. There was a refrigerator, stove, a few cabinets, a sink, and a pantry tucked off in one corner, along with a little round table that looked as though it could fit four people, though there were only three chairs. The ceiling had a fan spinning, with an uncovered lightbulb that wasn't on, the window to the far side of the kitchen providing enough light to get by. The floor was decorated with bright white and sunny yellow striped vinyl, a bundle of pink and purple flowers painted on at patterned intervals. This room seemed much cleaner than the rest of the house, to Rakka's gratification.

"It ain't much, but I don't get rained on... although that wouldn't happen much without a roof, anyway. Why don't you have a seat," Reki gestured to the table. Rakka tentatively took a seat with that air of discomfort that one experiences in a strange house for the first time. She watched as Reki moved over to the cabinets and pulled out a medium-sized pan from the cabinets and placed it on the stove, turning a dial to heat it. She then popped open the fridge door and started loading her arm with things. She paused for a moment in this process,

"You like spicy food?" She asked.

"Um, no, not really," Rakka admitted.

"Ah, you'll learn, but I'll take it easy on you this morning," Reki ended up pulling out a couple of partially consumed wheels of cheeses, one a mellow orange, the other a pale white. She also pulled out a couple of thin, green vegetables that Rakka didn't recognize, a handful of precariously balanced eggs, and half an onion. Setting all of this on a table, she went to the pantry and opened that up, taking an earthy, fresh-looking potato from a basket at the bottom. She took down a slab of scarred wood from a nail on the wall over the sink and put the potato and onion on it, dicing them with a knife she pulled from a drawer without even looking. She looked quite at home in her kitchen, and Rakka could hear her lightly humming. She apparently wasn't much for conversation while she was engaged, but Rakka felt fine with just watching her at work.

She finished dicing, and slid the cut vegetation into the waiting heated pan. As soon as that was done, it left her mind and she went back to her cutting board, taking the thin green things and dicing them up much more finely, with rapid, learned motions of her knife. She finished with them, moved them aside, and pulled out a flat, metal grater. She made herself a pile of mixed white and yellow cheese next to the green plants, quickly scrubbed clean the grater, and put it back up. She turned a cursory eye over the onion and potato, shook her head, and gave the pan a practiced flick of her wrist, tossing the ingredients about and allowing them to cook more evenly. Rakka watched as she walked over to a coffee pot on the counter she hadn't even noticed before and prepared it.

"You drink coffe?" Reki asked her now, and Rakka shook her head.

"Milk okay, then?"

"Yes, please." Reki took a glass from a cabinet and poured a glass of milk from a carton in the refrigerator, coming over to the table and setting it in front of Rakka before taking a seat herself.

"Got a little while before those potatoes cook," she explained. Reki felt like she should try and say something, start some kind of conversation with her guest, but could do little more than just look, vaguely bemused at the girl and the circumstances that brought her here today. She idly wondered why this felt so... comfortable, as if they'd been together an untold number of times before, feeling that closeness that didn't require words sitting between them despite their recent introduction. Rakka, too, found that when she thought about it, her life was frightening and bizarre, but when she didn't consciously focus on that, she felt the oddest sense of familiarity with her surroundings. She'd never been here before, she didn't know where anything was and nothing actually _looked _familiar to her, but the deepest, most intangible _feeling _of the place was somehow fitting. They spent a few minutes like that, then Reki got back up with a grunt, sniffing the air.

"Smells like it's about done," she remarked. She looked into her pan and tossed the contents around a bit, plucking out a piece and tossing it in her mouth, chewing thoughtfully, "Yep, perfect."

With three smooth motions, Reki cracked the five eggs she'd pulled out, one after another, and dropped the contents into the pan. Pulling a wooden spoon out of another drawer, she lightly churned the contents, just barefly breaking the yolks, then scraped in the diced green things. As it became readily apparent that she was, in fact, going to be eating them, Rakka became possessed with a sudden desire to know what those things were.

"Reki, what are those green vegetables you just put in there?"

"Huh? Those? Those were green chiles, good flavour, not very spicy. I usually like to add a bit of diced _jalapeño _as well, but I told you I was going to give you an easy time," she smiled as she spoke, and always kept a careful eye on her cooking. Soon she gave it a satisfied expression, and pulled a plate from cabinet, spooning out the contents onto it. She walked to the curtained window and drew the cloth back, revealing a much broader windowsill than Rakka would have suspected, with a row of containers in various sizes and types sitting in the sun. She brought down a round, squat, ceramic container with a lid, feeling the top.

"Looks like the sun should have them warmed just right by now."

She opened it up and took out a few pieces of some round, flat bread with darker brown spots speckled over the surface. She cupped one in her hand to form an elongated tube, spooned some of the egg mixture in, took a pinch of the grated cheese and sprinkled it over the top, then wrapped the whole thing up, handing it to Rakka.

"There you are, tell me what you think."

Rakka took a small, cautious bite and chewed. Her face brightened, and her jaws quickened. Besides being hungry, she found this absolutely _delicious, _and told Reki so. The woman's face brightened noticeably, though she hid it with a gruff expression, "Of course it is." She said, though it was obvious she appreciated the compliment. She poured herself a cup of coffee and wrapped up a breakfast for herself. They ate quickly, and just in time, too, because neither of them would have liked their meal spoiled.

"_Ah, la aroma dulce de café en la mañana," _a gruff voice spoke from the other room, and Rakka looked to the entryway to see a darkly tanned man walking in, wearing a stained undershirt and faded boxers. His eyes were closed with his nose in the air, sniffing appreciatively. His smile faded instantly, however, when he looked down and met Rakka's eyes. She smiled, but his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Reki, _quién es ella?"_

"Ah... _ella es mi... prima, si, mi prima. Ella tiene problemas pocas en ella casa, y vinó a la acá en la noche de ayer._" Reki spoke slowly and hesitatingly, and though Rakka couldn't understand what they were saying, she got the distinct impression that Reki's slowness was not due to any lack of competence in the tongue. The man standing there looked unconvinced, and still looked to Rakka harshly,

"_No opero una casa de caridad, Reki. Halla un sitio otro por tu relativos fugitos,"_

_"Uno momento, casero, elle necesita un sitio para vivir, ella hace hallar trabajo y pagar por habitación," _Reki said quickly, looking like she were protesting. Rakka felt uncomfortable, sure that she was being discussed and not knowing just what was going to happen to her.

"_Sí, sí, tú haces, pero miro no dinero. Si ella quiera para vivir, ella paga primero."_

Reki's mouth quirked down at the corner, and she bit back at him, "_Tu cabrón maldito. Tienes un corazón?"_

He wore a sickly sweet, self-satisfied smirk, and shook his head slowly, deliberately, and quite cheerfully. Then his eyes hardened once more, "_Yo quiero ella está ausente cuando volvo, comprende?"_

Reki stood, eyes blazing, but when she spoke, it was calm, cool, "_Voy al trabajo ahora. Traeré ella con me. Adios, cabrón." _Reki took Rakka's arm, and the girl correctly thought that to be a sign that they were about to leave, though she still felt a little scared about whatever Reki and her landlord had been arguing about, probably more afraid because she didn't know what they were discussing than anything else. Reki pulled her back into her room, where Rakka felt it was safe enough now to try and satisfy her curiosity.

"What was that all about, Reki?" She asked while the other woman picked up a denim jacket from the back of a straight-backed wooden chair in her room, the same she'd been sitting in when Rakka awoke. She slipped her arms into it, answering as she did,

"I told him you were my cousin and had troubles back home, and that you needed a place to stay. He said he wasn't running a charity, and I told him you would pay when you found a job, but he said money up front or no deal. He also wanted you out of here by the time he got back from his shower, so I'm taking you to where I work. We need to get you some clothes, anyway," Reki took a wide-brimmed, woven hat from a hook on the back of her door and put it on her brow, and also took a rolled cigarette from her jacket pocket, and a lighter from her pants pocket. She held the cigarette in her lips and lit it in a fluid motion, puffing and returning the lighter to her pocket.

"You know, smoking is bad for you," Rakka said reprovingly, then felt bad for saying such a thing to somebody helping her so much.

"Yeah? Oh well, I guess that means I won't have as long to live in this lovely place with all the people that care about me," she rolled her eyes to the other room, and Rakka laughed despite herself. Reki smiled, and she winked at the younger girl. The sight, that of this tough, dark-haired girl in rough clothing and that wide hat, winking her eye while a cigarette seemed to hang haphazardly from the corner of her mouth, somehow struck Rakka as being, well, quite cool.

"Come, Rakka, let us go out into the splendor of a true summer day in our glorious Mexico."

"Mehicou?"

"The country we live in, the sand we stand on, the sun that shines the sky; the land of the hardworking, the enduring, and the slightly insane," Reki responded, and Rakka thought she heard a note of pride in her voice.

Then they stepped out of the front double doors, and Rakka thought she knew what Reki meant by "the slightly insane." The sun shone glaringly in the sky, beating down on her unprotected head like a physical thing, making her squint and giving her the impression that she could already feel her skin burning in the heat. Reki took one look at Rakka cringing from her first meeting with the desert sun and sighed. She took the _sombrero _from her head and pushed it down over Rakka's eyes. The younger girl looked around amusingly with it covering her eyes, then pushed it back up and looked to Reki gratefully.

"I'll ask one of the _abuelas _to weave you one of these later."

"_Abuelas?_"

"Literally, grandmothers. They're three little old ladies that I work for in their little cookshop. They also live with us in _el hogar viejo_."

"Is that the name for the kind of building you live in?"

"Not exactly. The townspeople used to call it, _la casa de las personas viejas, _meaning 'the house of the old people', but then it got shortened to the current name, meaning something like, 'the home of the old.'"

"Old home..." Rakka spoke musingly, though she didn't know why the words sprang to her lips.

"Er, I guess that's a more literal translation, but that's not what the people usually mean. How did you know that?"

"Oh, I didn't know! I just... it sounded like a good name, or like something I've heard before. Old home."

"It has a certain romantic feel to it in our language, doesn't it?" Reki looked thoughtful, and Rakka nodded. It did. It felt like home.


	2. Chapter 2

The sunbaked town was deathly still and quiet as the sun climbed in the sky; there was a worn, almost abandoned feeling to the dust-choked road and the bleached buildings. Rakka was struck with the strange, though not truly unpleasant, feeling that there was only she and Reki in all of the world. Some strangeness in the atmosphere nagged at the corner of the young girl's mind, until she finally placed it: there were no sounds of birds or insects in the air. Thinking about it a little, however, Rakka couldn't blame them. The hat, what Reki had called a _sombrero_, she found herself appreciating immensely, but she still could feel the sun like the caress of a devil on the skin of her arms and the bare tops of her feet. Her throat swiftly dried in the parched air, and it felt as though every step increased the collection of dust and sand in her sandals, abrading her feet. She didn't want to be a bother to Reki, though, who had already helped her so much, so Rakka didn't speak of her discomforts.

The solitude came to a swift end as they walked deeper into town. Silhouetted in the distance was a group of darkly tanned men with lined, careworn faces and clothing stained yellowish from years of sweat. They all gathered in activity around a damaged building, only half somewhat intact, while the rest stood a charred, brittle skeleton. One group worked at tearing down what remained and salvaging what there was to salvage as the other worked at clearing the debris, and another yet worked with lumber and supplies in preparation for the pending rebuilding. They worked industriously, though quietly; none of them seemed particularly happy in their work, but neither did they seems especially discontent. They were, however, all fully prepared to get the job done. She and Reki got a few curious glances from the laborers, and one of them appeared to know Reki and waved at her with a smile on his thin lips. She waved casually back. Rakka could tell that they didn't know what to make of her, but she wasn't sure what to make of them either, so she supposed they were even. Those men weren't the only people Rakka encountered on the way to Reki's work, either. There were also wives with floppy, wide-brimmed hats similar to her own, though a little prettier; some had flowers adorning them, or brightly colored ribbons. They stood in yards and on porches, hanging washing and tending gardens--Rakka could scarcely trust her eyes when she saw green in this land--and checking plants drying in the sun, suspended from cords. Many of them greeted Reki with kindly regard, and were usually offered a casual nod of acknowledgment from Rakka's stoic friend. There was undisguised curiosity in their eyes as well, but they, like the men, all seemed content to let the mystery pass by them.

"They know that nothing remains a secret long, around here." Reki said suddenly, answering Rakka's unspoken question.

Rakka couldn't have said how far they went. The town only occasionally seemed to have any organization to it, quite often happy enough to send the roads winding any which way. Reki didn't feel the need to stick to even those meandering paths all the time, either, taking them across vacant lots and business properties whenever it suited her path. They came slowly to the end, and Rakka thought with some misgiving that she probably couldn't find her way back by now if her life depended on it, and that worry only served to highlight the fact that she was still in a strange, unfamiliar situation; at least she felt secure in the new friend she'd made. The building that Reki led her towards also seemed to set her at ease, somehow. It was a low building with thick walls and a dry, weathered door the same color as the earth.

The inside was dark and surprisingly cool. Rakka removed her hat, and held it shyly before her as they entered. It seemed like a large house at first glance, but the first doorway to the right, which Reki took her through, opened into an expansive room with three tables arranged throughout, with chairs going to each of them. They were plain furnishings, fairly modern and made of tarnished aluminum that was almost, but not quite, covered by the pristine white cloths draped over them. The furniture looked oddly out of place on the wooden floor, with morning sunlight streaming through hand-made windows. A single covered light provided a soft glow overhead There were a couple of men sitting at one table, bent over breakfast and speaking to one another in quiet tones between bite, in that language that Rakka still could hardly piece out words from, much less follow. There was also a young woman with a toddler of perhaps three years on her knee, also with a small plate of fare before her, though her careworn, unsmiling face was a worrisome sight to the gentle-hearted Rakka.

Across the room from this was a long counter separating the diners from a wall of shelving, packed with jars and bottles and packages of any number of goods. Rakka recognized the roman alphabet, and was versed enough in it to hazard a few pronunciations of the worded labels. She didn't know what the words meant, though, and was afraid to make herself seem foolish with a poor replication of the native language, so she kept that information to herself.

"_Abuela?_" Reki called out, ignored by the handful of occupants, but for the wizened figure that slowly raised from behind the counter.

"Reki," she greeted her with a warm familiarity, her voice surprisingly deep and musical coming from a deeply lined face patterned with wrinkles. Her little, dark eyes squinted almost shut as she looked out into the gloom, though what Rakka could see of them sparkled with life and contentment. Reki's own face broke out in a wide smile. Though this must have been a person she saw every day, Rakka noticed more of a hop in Reki's step as she walked around the counter. Rakka followed hesitantly, and saw the _abuela_'s eyes finally pick up on her, and one eyebrow raise curiously. She spoke to Rakka, with a curious, though courteous, tilt to her head, but Rakka could only spread her hands before her helplessly, looking to Reki. The older girl jumped in and started conversing, and the old woman's eyes soon shown with understanding. She also noticed that Reki was speaking very confidently, with none of the hesitation she'd displayed earlier. Perhaps she'd just warmed up to the story she had made up, Rakka wondered? The woman turned her attention back in her direction, though, so Rakka had no time to spare for speculation. A rough, leathery hand reached for her and she drew back almost unconsciously, feeling a split-second of irrational fear from this woman, but all that happened was the hand settled down upon her head and ruffled her hair.

"_Pobrecita," _she crooned softly, and Rakka felt comforted, an almost childlike security overtaking her with the soft, motherly voice. Then the woman looked over her, and began clucking disapprovingly. Frowning, she fingered the knee-length, cream-colored smock that Rakka wore, and snorted disdainfully at the simple sandals adorning her feet. Sighing, she walked back behind the counter again, curtly gesturing for Rakka to follow. She darted her eyes to Reki, seeking reassurance, and was encouraged with a nod and a smile. Hesitantly, then, Rakka followed her. She led through a door behind the counter, and into a bright kitchen. Inside there was another old woman, though where the first _abuela _had a small build and weathered features, this one was exceedingly well-fleshed, and her face was not so wrinkled as to give the impression of her age, so much as her iron-gray hair and the slower, wise expression on her face. She had been slowly scrubbing away at a pan in a sink of hot, soapy water, looking bored, but their entrance earned them a very curious expression indeed. A smile bubbled up in her wide, round cheeks when she saw Reki, and it flickered, but staid in place, when she turned her eyes to Rakka. The first woman offered a short explanation, and the other nodded, slightly rounded folds under her cheek forming every time her chin dipped towards her chest. Rakka didn't know what to make of the appraising expression the dish washing woman gave her, eyes twinkling thoughtfully and eyebrow arched high, but she was quickly led beyond the kitchen and into yet another room.

"Don't worry about that," Reki seemed to sense her apprehension. "_Abuela Morales_ is a nosy bird, but she's kind, and you'll never want for food around her--if you don't mind earning it, one way or another."

"They seem to like you, Reki," Rakka noted. "I hope I'm not making you look bad, if our story is that I'm a troubled relative. I don't want them to think you come from a troubled family."

"Ah, no worries, Rakka. Actually, I told them the truth." Reki's eyes darted forward. "But we can talk more about that later, it's time for you to go shopping."

"Shopping? But I don't have any--" Before Rakka could protest that she had no way to pay for anything, she was funneled through the door into a room that couldn't accurately be described as "professional," or even as a store, really. It looked like the huge closet of a woman with far too many clothes, little hanging racks on wheels sitting at angles with no apparent order all around the room, and little piles of ribbons and socks and hats scattered around the corners. From Reki's words, though, Rakka figured that this must have been a kind of shop, though a certifiably informal one. The woman--

"Reki," Rakka spoke up suddenly. "What should I call her?"

"Her? She's _abuela Estrada. _Do you need to ask her something?"

"No, I just wanted to know how to call her. Names are important, don't you think? So it's _abuela Estrada._..?" Rakka tried a few times to wrap her tongue around the unfamiliar name. "_Abuela... _Estrada. Grandmother Estrada. Got it." Rakka saw Estrada waving to her from the corner of her eye, and hurried over. Without pausing for useless words, leathery hands walked down the line of a few racks and pulled out clothes on the way, stopping here to pull out some long, ruffled skirts, and there for a couple of shirts and blouses, and finally to a pile of delicates--that they had to spend an embarrassingly long time at, in Rakka's opinion, because they weren't divided into sections by size--where they eventually found a few in her size. She considered several times of trying to convey her lack of money, but the language barrier proved too daunting to tackle for the shy girl. She was pointed to a door after all the clothing had been passed into her arms, and inside Rakka found a small room with a standing mirror and a small, rickety wooden chair. She took that to mean that she was to change, which she was did enthusiastically. Her garment felt far too heavy for this heat, and was by now a little sweaty, so it was with relish that she peeled it off and selected a skirt and blouse at random to wear. She still felt guilty about not being able to pay, though, so she didn't stop to admire herself, and just ran back out of the room to Reki and Estrada.

She found them talking animatedly, especially Reki, with her waving her hands around in the air and looking outright angry. Rakka guessed that it wasn't Estrada she were angry with, though, because the wizened old woman was nodding slowly, and tapping a finger thoughtfully on her chin. Rakka walked slowly up to them, and the motion must have caught Reki's eyes. The older girl froze in the middle of her excited tale and fixed her eyes on Rakka.

"W-what?" Rakka stammered, pausing in mid-step with Reki's intense gaze. "Did I put it on backwards...?" Rakka sure didn't think that there would be buttons in the back of any shirt, no matter what the culture was like, but she probably shouldn't assume these kinds of thing.

"No, that's not it," Reki shook her head quickly. "It's just, that, um, you look good." Reki averted her eyes and berated herself. The girl didn't look any damned different now! She forced her eyes back and saw an embarrassed, but happy expression on the girl's face. She stood with her hands folded shyly behind her back, and Reki felt her heart give a little lurch again. She wore a demure blouse the color of sun-faded lavender, and an ankle-length skirt of pure white fell over her slender hips and stopped just short of the tops of her toes.

"You think so?" Rakka asked, a pink tinge coloring her cheeks and throat. Reki thought she looked even more beautiful then, and was glad for the darkness of the room, that perhaps they might not see the flush that crept up her own face.

"Yeah. But, uh, anyway." She coughed loudly. "That is, I was just talking with Abuela about your living arrangements, and she says not to worry about _el casero, este bien._"

"Huh?"

Reki blinked. "Oh, I mean, don't worry about him, it's all good, you'll be able to stay."

"Eh?" Rakka cocked her head and furrowed her brows. "But he said he didn't want me there. He's the landlord, isn't he? I can't just stay there if I can't pay!"

"The _abuelas _stay there, too. Er, they used to more often, but they almost sleep more here in the store than they do over there now. The walk is getting longer for their old bones, they tell me, but they still pay him the rent to keep their stuff there, and because they feel sorry for the fellow. I suppose I can see where they're coming from, can you imagine owning an inn in this town?" Reki shook her head, chuckling. "So don't worry about imposing. If somebody else comes along that wants the room, he can kick you out then, but that's just not going to happen."

Rakka thought about it, frowning. "Okay, but I'm still going to try and get a job so I can pay him!"

"That was part of the understanding, yes," Reki smiled warmly. "You just have 'good person' oozing out of you, Rakka. I knew you'd say that." Rakka flushed at the praise. "Ah, and there's more. They're willing to give you the clothing for now, but in return for those, and for the intervention with _el casero_, you're to come with me in the mornings to help them work. You get to wash the morning dishes--mostly pots and pans--help organize any new merchandise that comes in, and help tend _Abuela Torrez's _spice and herb garden. You'll have lunch here, and then start on Spanish lessons until it's time to go home. Learn well, because you're only doing that for a week before they want you to go out looking for another job."

"Got it." Rakka nodded firmly after making sure to remember everything. She turned her eyes to Estrada, who regarded her with level, steady dark eyes. Not knowing how to express her gratitude through language, she cupped the old woman's hand warmly in her own and bowed deeply, smiling for all she was worth. Deep dimples making her face look pretty, almost younger, Grandmother Estrada smiled back, and ruffled Rakka's hair again with her free hand. Reki laughed, and lay her own hand atop theirs.

"If you keep this enthusiasm, they might be sorry to see you go. Lesson one, by the way: _gracias. _That's thanks. Give it a shot?"

"Um... guu-ra-sya-su?" Rakka said hesitantly, looking unsure at Grandmother Estrada. The woman laughed, too, and her beautifully musical voice, a rich and resonant sound that Rakka could hardly believe was made in her frail body, surprised Rakka again.

"_Este bueno, pobrecita." _She said warmly. Rakka smiled hesitantly, and couldn't help but break eye contact with the woman and seek out Reki's face. Estrada gently withdrew her hand, and Reki nodded her thanks at the old woman. Rakka felt her hand closed in Reki's warm grasp, and she was pulled in the direction of the door, to the back of the clothing room.

"She says that's good, Rakka. You'll pick it up quick enough, I think; I don't know that I'm all that great a shake at languages, and I did okay when I was learning."

"When you were learning?" Rakka echoed, a questioning lilt giving Reki pause. They stopped, and Reki spun around.

"Well, yeah. I'm not a native speaker either, I had to learn. You'll do fine, but I can't teach any more right now. I have to get to work."

"Work? Oh, what is your job?" Rakka asked curiously. Immediately after, she was struck with another curiosity, but she forgot it when a shrill squeal broke through the air, followed by a chorus of raucous, high-pitched laughter. Reki sighed.

"Aren't they energetic today?" She looked at Rakka with soft eyes that betrayed the truth of her exasperated exhalation. "As it happens, this place is a store, a restaurant, and..." They reached the end of the hallway, and Reki flung open the door. Rakka saw the source of all the commotion in a bubbling, bouncing room full of young children, none of which could have been much older than five, and all of whom stopped dead silent when Reki came in the room, shouting out a few brusque phrases. "And a daycare," she finished what she had been saying, after she had their attention. "I look after the children that working parents need taken care of."

"Reki!" One little girl shouted, and ran up, pouting, She flung herself on Reki's leg and buried a teary face into the hem of her jacket. She said something, but Rakka wasn't sure if she could have understood the muffled burst of words, even if she knew the language. Reki knelt down slowly and peeled the girl off of her, smiling the most gently and happily that Rakka had seen her, and touched her nose to the young child's. The little girl giggled and flinched, and Reki crooned a question at her.

"_Si, si, uno momento,_" Reki answered kindly, before turning to Rakka. "I don't mean to keep you here if you'd rather explore or anything, Rakka. I think I'll have my hands full here for a little while, and it's not really all that interesting to watch somebody babysit, so feel free to--"

"No, not at all!" Rakka shook her head firmly side to side. "I--that is, you look happy here, Reki. I'm a little surprised, I would never have thought that you took care of kids for your job, you're so..."

"Tall, dark, and scary?" Reki suggested wryly, winking up at her. Rakka ducked her eyes, embarrassed at having been seen through so readily, but she nodded an affirmation.

"Something like that," she admitted. "But I like it, the way that you can be so cool-looking, but still be so kind to me, and all of these children. I'd like to stay here and see this Reki some more, if you wouldn't mind."

Reki blinked as Rakka smiled prettily. "Ah, r-really?" She felt a little heat in her cheeks, and coughed shortly, turning it into a chuckle. She arched an eyebrow at Rakka. "You..."

Whatever it was that Rakka was, the young girl never got to hear, because the children chose right then to decide that they were quite unpleased with being neglected by Reki in favor of this undeserving newcomer, and kicked up an immediate fuss. The young girl who had been so teary-eyed before now had her face scrunched up angrily, free of tears, and was jumping up and down for Reki's attention. When she saw that she had regained it, the young one spoke in that deadly serious, focused way that only little children could. Reki might not have improved the situation by laughing then, a full and genuine sound that brought an immediate smile to Rakka's own face, but laugh she did, long and hard enough to have her doubling over and gasping for breath, to the little girl's obvious consternation.

"Th-this little one, she wants to know who the strange pretty lady is, and why we're talking in a secret language, and demands that we speak properly from now on so they know we aren't telling secrets."

Rakka looked into the girl's face. Little cheeks were puffed out and she was glaring at Rakka with all the animosity that her young heart could muster. She was actually a cute little girl, Rakka saw, now that her face wasn't mottled from crying. She had an olive complexion that adults would be envious of, and hair that wasn't the deep, almost blue lustrousness of Reki's, but had it's own deepness of brown that was far warmer. Her glaring eyes were huge and dark as her hair, almost seeming too large for her face, with a small, pert little nose and lips like a tiny pink bow. Rakka found herself smiling, and the little girl stomped her foot angrily when she saw her target wasn't expressing fear like she well-ought to be. Rakka tried to think of how to fix the situation.

"Um, I'm sorry!" She tried automatically. The little girl sniffed and turned her head away, and Rakka realized that talking even more in the "secret language" probably wasn't endearing her.

"Don't worry about it, Rakka," Reki said, smiling in resignation. "Why don't you just stay there for a minute while I get the little ones situated, and I'll explain things to them so that they don't dislike you. They're all good kids, really, the selfish little things." Reki picked the pouting little girl up and sat her down on her forearm, and started talking firmly, though still kindly, to all the rest of them. They sat down in a small semi-circle around Reki, who promptly plopped down cross-legged in the middle of them, arranging the little girl on her lap. She looked just absolutely thrilled to have a special seat with Reki this morning, Rakka noticed. The kids really loved her. She also noticed, warmth blossoming in her heart at the sight, that Reki looked absolutely radiant as she sat and spoke to all of them, smiling and laughing unabashedly as she met each and every one of their eyes in turn. Rakka could see only too obviously that Reki loved them dearly as well.


End file.
